


if love is what you need (a soldier I will be)

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [21]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Badass Eliot Spencer, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, Eliot Spencer Angst, Eliot Spencer Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Hurt Alec Hardison, Hurt Eliot Spencer, Imprisonment, Multi, POV Eliot Spencer, Protective Eliot Spencer, Torture, Violence, extremely minor but I'm tagging it anyway just to be safe, more details in my author's note, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: Eliot is being held and tortured by a man with a personal vendetta against him, and the stakes increase tenfold when Parker and Hardison are captured, as well.Febuwhump Day 21 - TortureWarnings for torture, breaking of bones, blood and injury, mentions of Eliot's past/violence, imprisonment, and a minor non-con situation (someone touches Parker's cheek and kisses her neck without her consent). Please keep yourselves safe! <3
Relationships: Alec Hardison & Parker & Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138970
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	if love is what you need (a soldier I will be)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Today's Febuwhump prompt is: torture. This is every whumper's favourite prompt, but ironically, I actually prefer mental/emotional angst to physical angst. This was a hard prompt for me to fill, but I'm really happy that I did. I want to get better at writing physical whump/angst. In any case, I really hope you like this!
> 
> Warnings for torture, breaking of bones, blood and injury, mentions of Eliot killing someone in the past, imprisonment, and a minor non-con situation (one of their captors touches Parker's cheek and kisses her neck without her consent). Please keep your lovely selves safe! <3
> 
> With that being said, let's get on to the story! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Eliot swallowed hard, tasting copper as he did so. The laceration on his cheek _hurt_ \- they must have used brass knuckles when they punched him last time. He knew at least two of his ribs were broken, and his ankle was sprained at best, broken at worst. His wrists were laced with rope burns from the ropes they’d used to tie him to his chair, and his chest felt like it was on fire. 

In short, Eliot was _not_ having a good day, and it was about to get worse. 

There were sounds of a struggle outside, and Eliot tried to force his swollen eye open a little bit more so he could better see what was causing the commotion. To his horror, the door opened and revealed one of his captors with their hands on Parker and Hardison’s shoulders. 

“We caught these two trying to break in,” Eliot’s main captor, someone he didn’t really didn’t know, just that he was the person left behind after one of Eliot’s more vicious retrievals in the past, said. “Figured they might be some friends of yours.” He smirked. “Based on your reaction, I can see I was right.” _Shit_. He’d been so surprised, so _terrified_ , really, that he’d forgotten to control his facial expressions. 

“Put them next to Spencer here, and tie them up,” the leader told one of his associates, who nodded and led Parker to the chair next to Eliot, tying her up quickly. He laughed when she cried out in pain as he tightened the ropes, and Eliot let out a little growl, fighting against his restraints, even though he knew it was useless. 

The other man led Hardison to another chair, tying him up quickly before joining his associates at the door. “Get comfortable,” the leader told Eliot. “All three of you are going to be here for a while.”

With that, they left, slamming the door behind him. Eliot’s body felt like it was on fire, and he was afraid to look at Parker and Hardison, too scared of what he’d see in their eyes. Horror? Revulsion? Fear? Or, worse - repulsion. Hate. Hatred for him, for getting them into this situation, for what he’d done that had landed him in this chair in the first place. 

“Eliot,” Hardison prompted, and there was concern in his voice, but he didn’t sound like he was angry with Eliot, so Eliot took a deep breath and turned to face him, hoping the fear didn’t show on his face. 

“Holy shit,” Hardison breathed, taking in Eliot’s appearance, the state of his face - his swollen eye, the cut on his cheek, the finger-shaped bruises that littered his neck from being choked. “Oh god, Eliot.” 

“I’m okay,” Eliot rasped out, coughing once to clear his throat. Giving him water wasn’t exactly top on his captors’ list of priorities. “I’ve had worse.” For some reason, that sentence didn’t seem to make Hardison feel any better. 

“You don’t look okay,” Parker pointed out from beside him. She couldn’t even see everything, from where she was, but Eliot knew she could see the odd angle of his ankle and the way that blood, both old and new, stained his shirt. 

Eliot sighed. “I promise you, I’ve had worse. It’s okay, darlin’.” He turned to face Parker. “Okay? I’m okay.” 

“Okay,” Parker said, but she still didn’t sound convinced. 

They were silent for a few minutes then, with Eliot spending the entire time trying to figure out how to put into words what he wanted to say to them. They needed to know that he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant for them to get caught up in this. They needed to know what he’d done, why the man who’d captured him was so furious with him, but he didn’t know if he could bear saying it out loud. That would make it real. That would mean that Parker and Hardison got a glimpse of who he _really_ was, and Eliot didn’t know if he could handle that. 

“We didn’t mean to get caught,” Parker blurted out, breaking the silence between them and snapping Eliot out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Hardison sighed, groaning in irritation. “It was a pretty good plan, but we needed Nate, and he & Sophie are in Europe. Unreachable until Sunday.” He paused to curse, the guilt apparent on his face. “We should’ve waited instead of bursting in here half-cocked.” 

“But we couldn’t wait,” Parker defended them. “We were scared, Eliot. We thought something bad had happened to you, and we were right.”

Eliot’s eyes filled with tears at that. He couldn’t believe that they had risked their own safety, jeopardized their own lives, just to save his. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, before either of them had a chance to say another word. “Thank you for coming to rescue me.”

“Yeah, well, this is a kinda shitty rescue,” Hardison joked, flicking his gaze down to where his hands were tied to the chair. Eliot chuckled a little. 

“Thank you for trying, anyway.”

“Of course,” Parker said. “We weren’t just going to leave you!” She sounded so indignant, like it was _obvious_ that they’d always be there, that they always had Eliot’s back, and it made something warm bloom in Eliot’s chest for a minute.

They fell silent after that, and Eliot was grateful for it. He didn’t know if he could handle telling them the full story, telling them what had happened and his history with the man that had captured them, not when they had just broken into a secure facility to try and rescue Eliot from that same captor, who had every right to kill him if he wanted to. 

It wasn’t long before Eliot heard footsteps and voices outside the door, and he tensed, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. He hoped, _prayed_ , that they wouldn’t hurt Hardison or Parker. He didn’t think he could stand it. They could cut into him, rip him limb from limb, break every bone in his body, and he wouldn’t bend or break, but he was scared of what he would do if they hurt his partners. 

The door swung open, revealing the leader and two of his men, each carrying a hammer and a socket wrench. Eliot’s eyes widened as one of them made his way over to Parker, regarding her with hungry eyes that made Eliot want to kill him with his bare hands. The other one approached Hardison, swinging the hammer from hand to hand with a smirk. Hardison valiantly tried not to show his fear, but Eliot could tell he was terrified, and the knowledge brought with it a sense of vicious desperation that Eliot hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

Finally, the leader took a seat in a chair opposite Eliot and stared him down, a smug smile on his face. “So we can’t break you,” he mused, his tone deceptively conversational. He gestured to Eliot, to the broken and bloody remains of his body, and Eliot sucked in a deep breath, his hands tightening into fists despite his bonds. “But maybe,” the man continued, “We can get to you with... _alternative_ methods.” Eliot felt his blood begin to boil. _No_. _Not happening_. 

One of the other men swung, and Eliot heard the hammer connect with Hardison’s arm via a sickening crunch that told him Hardison’s arm was most likely broken. He growled, vicious and loud, scraping his wrists bloody as he fought to get out of his restraints. 

“It’s no use,” the leader said, laughing a little at Eliot’s attempts to get free. “I’d suggest you just sit back and enjoy the show.”

The man assigned to Parker stroked a hand down her cheek, and Eliot followed its movements like a hawk. Parker looked like she wanted to throw up, and her hands twitched where they were tied, like she wanted to stab him with a fork like she had their mark that one time. 

“Don’t you dare,” Eliot growled, looking at the leader. “Don’t you fucking _dare_. I will kill you, do you hear me? I will kill you dead.” 

“Take your best shot,” the leader snarled back. 

Eliot watched, struggling against his ropes, as the other man put his lips to Parker’s neck, kissing gently. Parker was fighting to get away, and she looked a cross between furious and fearful. Eliot strained against his bonds, shouting in pain as he did so, trying to get his chair to move, something, _anything_. He couldn’t just sit and let this happen to her. He _wouldn’t_. 

The sound of splintering wood drew the attention of everyone in the room, and Eliot growled as he broke free of the ropes they’d bound him with. They snapped, falling away from his wrists, and instead of untying his legs, Eliot picked up the chair he’d been bound to and threw it, as hard as he could, at the leader. The sound of the ropes attached to his legs snapping filled the room, and the goons the leader had hired looked afraid. 

_Good_. 

Eliot ran for the man standing over Parker first, wrestling him to the floor and knocking him unconscious with one punch. He kept punching, even after it was clear the man was out cold, his fist connecting with the man’s face until it was bloody and bruised, until Parker yelled, “Hardison!” and Eliot remembered that she wasn’t the only one in peril. 

He ran for the goon that had hurt Hardison and gave him the same treatment as Parker’s, sending his head flying into the concrete wall. It connected with a loud smack, and blood pooled around him as he slid to the floor, unconscious. Eliot gave a growl of approval as he rushed to untie Hardison from the chair. He managed to do the same for Parker before the leader was on him, throwing Eliot into the wall like he actually thought he could _win_ this fight. _Oh, that’s cute._

“Like I said,” he growled. “Take your best shot.”

Eliot didn’t need to be told twice. 

Eliot slammed into the leader with the force of a dozen freight trains, knocking them both to the ground. His fists were flying before the other man even had a chance to get a shot in, and Eliot was shouting words of pure vitriol that he couldn’t even understand. The leader was pinned beneath Eliot’s body as Eliot hit him anywhere he could. He broke his nose with one punch, blood covering the man’s face. He was unconscious by the fifth punch, but Eliot didn’t care. He hurt the people he loved. He was going to pay. Eliot was going to make him pay. 

“Eliot!” Hardison shouted, but Eliot didn’t hear him; the world had narrowed down to just him and the leader, and the sound of his own punches, the feeling of his own skin tearing as he beat the other man bloody. He didn’t just want to make him hurt; he wanted to _break_ him, wanted to kill him, wanted to make him _pay_ for hurting the people he loved.

“Eliot!” It was Parker this time. He ignored her, too. The leader deserved it. He hurt Hardison. He’d sent his goons to hurt them, he’d let someone _touch_ Parker, and he was going to _kill_ him. 

“ _Eliot!_ ”

Hands were on his shoulders then, tugging hard, and he growled, making his intentions clear to the others. They didn’t stop, didn’t let go; Eliot heard Parker and Hardison both talking, talking to him, and they were pulling him away, stopping him, and he let them. 

There was no one else that he would stop for, but he let them pull him away. 

Breathing hard, his fists dripping with blood, Eliot turned to face them, trying to hold his head high even though he was terrified of how they would look at him now. To his surprise, they didn’t look upset, or horrified, or even scared of him. They just looked relieved, like they were glad he was there, like there was nowhere else in the world they’d rather be. Eliot didn’t understand. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, gesturing with one fist to the leader, lying unconscious and bloody on the prison floor. 

“What for?” Hardison asked indignantly. “He deserved it.” Relief washed over Eliot, bittersweet and tinged with gratitude for Hardison’s easy acceptance of the violence. He looked over at Parker, a little fearfully, but she nodded, confirming her agreement with Hardison’s statement, and Eliot smiled. 

“Come on,” Hardison said, wrapping an arm around Eliot’s shoulders. Parker followed suit. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“What about them?” Eliot asked, his blood still boiling with rage at the thought of what they’d done to his people, his partners, the people he loved more than anything in the world. 

“Leave them,” Hardison said strongly, ignoring Eliot’s protests. “ _Leave them_ , Eliot. I’ll call the police when we get outside. They’ll get thrown into jail. I promise. I left a paper trail on them a mile long.” 

“Jail’s too good for them,” Eliot growled, and the others made various sounds of agreement. Eliot sighed. If Parker and Hardison wanted him to, and only _because_ they wanted him to, he would agree to that. 

If it was anyone else, Eliot didn’t know that he could have. But Parker and Hardison were special, and they all knew it. There was no one else Eliot cared about more. He loved them, and he realised with an exhale the significance of that. 

“I love you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. 

To his surprise, Parker and Hardison just smiled, as if they’d been waiting years for him to say that, and maybe they had. “We love you, too.”

Eliot smiled, the feeling a foreign one on his face, and started the journey towards home with both of their arms around him. They would be okay. _He_ would be okay. As long as he had them. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](https://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to scream about Leverage with other fans? [Join the multifandom Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) I run with my friends! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3


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